Sunday, July 15, 2012

Preparing for the last combi ride


I vividly remember the emotional rush that accompanied during my very first combi ride to Poroto.  I was crammed amongst a jumble of people, excited and slightly overwhelmed at the prospect of seeing my new home for the first time.  I remember all my senses were heightened as I took in the sites of the passing pineapple fields, smelled burning sugar cane lingering in the warm air, heard cobradors shout in Spanish jabber, and felt the bumps and curves of the carretera.  Everything was new and revealing itself to me for the first time; my anxious anticipation was palpable as I anticipated the site where I’d be living for the next two years.  Now, after countless trips on that same combi, I’m called by name and greeted with smiles by fellow Porotinas as I climb aboard.  The squawking chickens, screaming children, and huge bushels of fruit that inevitably accompany me have become commonplace fellow passengers.  My two years have passed and I’ll soon be embarking on my dreaded last combi ride out of Poroto. 

As I rode that first combi with a nervous smile plastered on my face, I could’ve never anticipated the experiences that were waiting; shared laughs, frustrating challenges, and countless new opportunities.  Somehow this little town, nestled in the very base of the Andes Mountains, surrounded by vibrant green pineapple fields has stolen my heart and truly become home.  It’s been an experience far different from anything else in my life, and something that I know will affect everything that’s yet to come.  I truly thought joining Peace Corps meant leaving my life behind and starting something new.  While Peace Corps was absolutely a distinct departure from my previous lifestyle, it has in no way been a different life.  It’s amazing how we all have the ability to adapt to new situations and integrate into foreign environments.  Practices that initially seemed bizarre, illogical, or different have become “normal” and my conception of reality has surely been altered as I became comfortable with my new lifestyle. 

I’ve found that my life hasn’t been put on hold these past two years; in fact, quite the opposite has been true.  My life has continued and been enriched by a distinct set of challenges, relationships, and opportunities for growth.  Never before had I encountered moments where I felt so lonely, cynical, and frustrated, but simultaneously loved, encouraged, and inspired.  I had experiences and interactions that truly tested long-standing personal beliefs and conceptions of the way the world works and others that re-affirmed them in personal and meaningful ways.  I realized that as much as I missed my “real” friends and family, I was also capable of forming an entirely new system of support in my community and amongst fellow Peace Corps volunteers. 

Much like two years ago, I am once again faced with a myriad of emotions as I’m about to jump on this combi for the last time.  The “unknown” in my life is no longer the foreign, as it was two years ago.  Ironically enough, it’s now the “familiar” that’s become unknown.  I’ve become accustomed to 4:30am braying donkeys as my alarm clock, lazy Sundays picking pineapple, extended  lunches laughing with  my host family, children greeting my entrance with screams of “Senorita Kelsi!,” stray dogs chasing me on my afternoon runs, and long Spanish conversations with local senoras about town gossip.   I’ve embraced less than hygienic habits and integrated bizarre Peruvian jerga into my vocabulary.  Will I be ready to face the world of 9-5 jobs, punctuality, and materialism?  I have to remind myself that America also means my family and friends, dinner parties, real weekends, hot showers, the beginning of a career, and food I can choose myself.  Twenty-seven months outside the US has made me unsure of what’s waiting for me and what new adventures lies ahead.  My own beliefs and personality have undoubtedly been impacted by my time here in Peace Corps, but I have faith I’ll jump back into American life carrying with me the very best of Peruvian culture; hospitality, warmth, and taking the time to enjoy life and relationships.  I’ve said before; I’m ready to go, but I don’t want to leave.  Leaving my host family and community and boarding that combi will undoubtedly be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.  As I watch the town of Poroto fade away into the green fields, my emotions will once again be heightened and my future unknown, but I now carry with me experiences that I’ll never forget and confidence gained through the struggles and successes of the last two years. 

As I began packing, I found a letter I wrote to myself almost exactly a year ago  with instructions to open during my last week at site… here’s an excerpt-

“This may not have been the easiest thing in the world, but now that it’s over I hope you continue to feel 100% certain that it was 2 years incredibly well spent.  As you continue with your life, remember the simple pleasures, the beauty of relationships, and the small things around you.  Maintain passion, enthusiasm, positivity.  Don’t ever lose faith; in yourself, in God, in others, in your own capacity.  The world awaits.  I know it’ll be hard to leave, but Peru will always be your second home.  Remember what you said when you started this adventure? You wanted a heart and home in this country; I certainly think at this point you do.  So- be fuerte, be ambitious, love life, love others, love yourself.  Embrace your last bit of time in Poroto; keep smiling, eat some pina, laugh with the fam- don’t take things too seriously and think of the many blessings you’ve had over these last years.  Take this experience back home with you and let it mold your future in the best way possible. “